It really has been a long time since I posted. I conclude that being ill was/is good for my writing productivity, being quite well is good for everything else but kills off my writing mojo. Not having an incident to report which surreptitiously shows how brave and alternative I am being has blunted my pencil. All that political posturing, all that ‘hey look at me’ aren’t I a free spirit, well I guess it was just a cancer diagnosis -drug induced- panic attack, but despite that it really did make me happy, if not as original or as provocative as I thought/wished.

Some of you are to blame. You said that you enjoyed the blog, so I wrote stuff to be enjoyed – some of you unsubscribed – not you of course otherwise this post is the proverbial unheard tree falling in the forest – some of you found it funny, so I wrote more funny stuff -cringe – none of you read my poems – so like some petulant teenager I stopped writing them.

Hey but I have joined a writing group at the university. “What about me” WAM. It’s about writing the self which as you know is what I do. As WAM members may read this I will say only nice things – I LOVE YOU ALL – but joining WAM has been enough to make me want to write again.

I have really worked at avoiding it for at least a year – longer really. I am very happy not writing. I work, I play, I worry – the usual stuff. Writing is no longer important. Excuses like I am too busy – bahh cobblers. Today I graveled the back, yep the back, the bit nobody sees, where nobody goes apart from the cat for a poo, the back of my red telephone box. It needed gravelling more than I needed to write. So there it is – my writing comes second to a spot of redundant tarmacing. Poor cat.

I have been advised to keep my posts short. So…